Project: Repopulation!
by BryceBoy10
Summary: Two years after the horrendous war that ravaged Earth beyond repair, and extinguished all human and pokemon life, twenty six survivors return to the surface in an attempt to restore the planet to what it had once been.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue: Part 1 

**3:27 p.m. Tuesday, December 14****th****, 2047**

The harsh wind that came rocketing down Frinton Avenue carried the screams and cries of the approaching destruction. It had been this way for days, though the citizens of Rustboro City had never been given a clear idea of when it would dawn upon them. Though as the screech of footsteps upon the cracked pavement and the clatter of a thunderbolt attack gone amiss, could be heard just a block away, Charlie Weindrich knew that the war had arrived.

The young boy had been tending to his injured zigzagoon when the clamor had broken out just over on Brincoff Drive where his family's home was located. Thoughts of his home being torched to the ground instantly snapped into his mind, accompanied by the imaginary shrieks and wails of his family that seemed so real. This had been the case within the various cities of the Kanto and Sinnoh regions, both of which were currently in a state of destruction and unlivable conditions. Scenes of these places were constantly being shown on public broadcasting stations as a reminder of what the human race had done to the beautiful Earth that they once called, "a safe place to live". But these days, there was no true "safe place", for evil thoughts and plans lurked everywhere.

With these visions burned deeply into his mind, Charlie took off at a full pace run towards the sign at the end of the road marked Central Street. He pressed the zigzagoon close to his chest, taking care not to drop the hurt pokemon as he skidded down the street. The intersection leading toward the main road was just beyond this point, and was surprising empty, probably due to the fact that nearly every family was taking refuge in the pokemon contest hall.

That was where Charlie had been heading when a swarm of crazed beedrill had bombarded him, in a rush to escape the city themselves. In their panic, one's stinger managed to pierce the leg of Charlie's companion zigzagoon, instantly knocking the poor raccoon pokemon unconscious. He couldn't just leave it there, so he had then sacrificed a few minutes of his life to help it. The boy knew that he had little time, for the doors to the contest hall would shut for good at 3:30 p.m. making no exceptions for stragglers, just leaving them on their own to find a safe haven. Glancing down at his poketch watch, his eyes passed over the digital reading 3:27, with the seconds clicking away the time until his sure-to-come demise, which he could only avoid if he started moving, now!

Luckily, the contest hall was within easy walking distance from his location, just beyond the pokemon center that lies smack-dab in the center of Rustboro, exactly one mile away.

Charlie Weindrich was determined to make it to his destination in time, and had his mind set on nothing but it. A reassuring sight had just transfixed itself on the horizon, that is, the pokemon center! A sharp cramp jabbed at his side seemingly determined to stop him from getting there.

Seconds later, as the young Weindrich boy passed the sliding glass doors of the healing center, the contest hall, with its towering walls, and its toast-colored walls, came into view. At this point, it called out to Charlie like a beacon, beckoning to him, telling him that safety was within reach, inside its walls. With the snoozing zigzagoon becoming increasingly heavier and the boy's muscles aching greatly, he took off in one last balls-to-the-wall sprint down a sloped hill, thinking of nothing but entering those doors. That was when he heard those three dreaded words.

"Close the doors!' came the shout of the military personnel atop the roof, waving a rifle in the air. His blastoise beside him then began spraying water in great blasts at the swarm of people in front of the doors, fighting for the right to enter the auditorium. Men, women, children, and pokemon alike were thrown aside like rag dolls from the force of the hydro-pump. Working feverishly through the savage crowd were Charlie and his zigzagoon, hidden by the waving arms and splashing water. "No, please, let me in!" the boy pleaded and cried, with his face turned upward toward the camouflage- clad man. But just as the words escaped his mouth, Charlie felt a gut-wrenching stab at his lower back, and was instantly knocked to the ground, and the zigzagoon plummeted to the earth.

As Charlie Weindrich lie there on his back, gazing skyward, his muscles twitched endlessly, due to the recent case of paralysis taking over his body. The culprit, guilty of doing this to him, then passed over the fallen boy. From his position on the ground, Charlie witnessed a gruff-looking girl; her hair tied back with a bandanna, shrieking commands at her companion toxicroak. It was only two words, over and over again. Poison Jab! Immediately, the fighting frog pokemon leapt through the crowd, its arms glowing wildly, and thrust it into countless victims' backs. Instantly they would drop like a sack of hay, and lie there twitching, with their pokemon looking helplessly at their masters. The mysterious girl however, continued her path of paralysis to the barricaded doors that once served as an entrance. Then, she and her pokemon began throwing a torrent of fists toward the wooden-planks that were meant to block off one's passage.

The army, seeing the horrible riot below them, responded in the only way that they knew how. The group of officers atop the roof screamed out an unheard warning, " Please back away from the doors, or we will resort to physical action." These men had no other choice, because at that very moment saw the torrent of flames billowing up from the West Side of the city, indicating that the enemy forces had arrived, and were currently bent on destroying Rustboro.

The last intelligible word that Charlie heard was, "Fire!" And accompanied by that command came a swirling mass of electricity and flames, emitted by the Jolteon and Rapidash who had been sitting at their general master's feet on top of the contest hall. It twirled and dove among the mob, instantly killing some, and leaving others to die in agonizing pain, However, Charlie would not see any more of this bloodshed, for at the very moment that the attack reached him, his world went black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Prologue: Part 2**

**5:12 p.m. Tuesday, December 14****th****, 2047**

The pungent scent of burning plastic was the only distinguishable smell among the wreckage. The smoke that came as a result layered the skies, blocking most of the setting sun's light, and plunged the city of Rustboro into a semi-perpetual darkness. That being the case, the city's floodlights activated immediately, though many of the citizens wished they would just stay off for good. They did not want to witness the destruction of their beloved city by the rogue invaders currently fulfilling their worst fears. This horrid group was known as The Depraved, and took joy in destroying the civilized life around them, hoping to bring about the end of mankind and let the pokemon live at peace without them. Their obscure start on the rugged Mt. Coronet began with few members, hoping to reach a worldwide audience and broaden their wicked community. They succeeded in gathering thousands of lost souls and loners, having no place else to go and wanting to help in any way possible. After years of planning and strategizing their attacks, they recently began desolation of the closest region: Sinnoh. And only weeks ago had they completed the destruction of the Kanto Region, leaving only Hoenn and Johto to go.

They had decided to begin with this region first, starting with the well-known city of Rustboro, where Charlie and his family live.

The boy lying upon the cracked pavement in front of the contest hall was presumed to be dead, as were all those around him. The Depraved didn't have to time to search through each of the bodies, checking pulses and whatnot, they would all be dead soon enough. That is, when they unleash the human-particle desolation ray, which would exterminate any and every human molecule on the planet, including themselves. Many of the lowly Depraved grunts strode joyfully about with this thought in their mind, as they mindlessly shouted orders at their pokemon to topple the buildings.

Only the pungent stench of smoke and the splash of a water pulse attack directed at a wall awakened Charlie Weindrich. Sitting up slowly, he felt a terrible ache on his left side, remembering the poison jab attack that he had fallen victim to. Where was that evil little girl now? If he could find her, you better believe he would have some choice words for her.

In his rage, Charlie momentarily neglected to see the mass grave of dead bodies that he was lying among. Their smell had not yet reached the point of nausea for they had only been dead for about two hours. Yet, whether they be rotting or not, it was repulsive to think that he had been lying next to them for any period of time. He easily lifted himself to his feet, wobbling slightly, for there was little room to stand among the countless dead bodies that had been fighting to get into the safety of the contest hall. Seething, Charlie remembered that it had been these people's _own _army that had killed them, but only to save those already inside. Clattering footsteps could be heard far-off, accompanied by the shout, " Raichu, use spark!" and a shattering bolt of electricity erupting into the smoke-filled sky. Hearing this, Charlie reached with ease to his belt, where his few pokeballs were located, and gripped one at random. "Come on out," he whispered, while tossing the ball casually to the ground in front of him. The distorted red ball of light that erupted from the pokeball cleared to show his medicham sitting cross-legged, apparently in deep thought. Charlie, for one, was relieved; he could have accidentally chosen his misbehaving munchlax's pokeball, which could have been a huge mistake. "Medicham, let's go," he whispered, leading the way out of the mass grave. He had to choose his footing carefully, because he could not take stepping on someone's rotting corpse. That would just be disgusting.

Minutes later, after maneuvering their way out of the body pile, the boy and his pokemon stopped to figure out where they should be headed. They didn't know that they should risk going back to Charlie's home to find his parents, or try to get into the contest hall, after a pretty disastrous first attempt. Charlie couldn't understand why they had not allowed him access the first time. After all, he was the ambassador's son! Mr. Weindrich, (Charlie's father) was chosen as one of only three ambassadors to serve as representatives of the Hoenn region. This was the case with the other three regions of the world (or what was left of it): Sinnoh, Kanto, and the untouched region of Johto. These twelve men and women were the richest in the world, excluding Rhani, the young and beautiful Empress of all the lands. But nothing of such high social stature mattered now, as the entire world was fighting for survival.

Charlie had no time to decide where to go however, for as he stood reminiscing about how the world once was, he was approached by a member of the Depraved.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? A wee lad and his little pet medicham? It sure is gonna pain me to do this, but ya know how it goes," the lowly grunt wheezed, wearing a smug smirk. " Donphan," he continued, glancing down at the large, elephant-like pokemon at his side, "Why don't you treat them to a nice rollout." With his master's words echoing in its mind, the Donphan curled up into a large ball and hurled itself at Charlie and his medicham. Medicham dove toward his trainer, knocking him out of the Donphan's path.

"Medicham, use hidden power!" Charlie called. Instantly, the medicham stopped, and focused on the approaching Donphan. Then without warning, the Donphan began to glow a deep purple and was lifted into the air. There it dangled for a few seconds, with the medicham still focusing deeply upon it, until the elephant pokemon dropped, smashing its tusks deeply into the ground. It moaned and struggled, trying to yank its jammed tusks from the cement. Seeing this as an opportunity to escape, Charlie screamed a retreat to his medicham, and took off down the street, leaving the grunt furious and confused. The boy knew that his time was slim before the grunt reported that there was still a survivor on the street. Seeing as he couldn't return to the contest hall, he could think of only one other place to go: home.

Thinking back to what he had witnessed before his blackout, Charlie wasn't even sure that his home still stood; it could be just another pile of rubble, as all the other homes were. _What do I have to lose? _He thought to himself, _besides my life _came the response again from the inner depths of his mind.

Side by side, the boy and his Medicham continued their quest to safety, hoping with all their might that they could find some. His home being on the West side or known by the locals as the (rich neighborhood) Charlie was sure that he wouldn't encounter any more of the Depraved, for they had already passed through this area, and were currently bent on destroying the East. Several minutes of arduous, sweat-soaked running brought him within sight of his home, which proved that Charlie's fears were unaccomplished. His home was still standing, a little blackened on the exterior, but still standing. Taking care to check his surroundings, Charlie and Medicham trotted up to the front steps leading onto the porch and noticed that the front door had been blown off the hinges. That sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had previously had was back. Another blast could be heard in the distance. That first weak step onto the porch felt as though Charlie was walking on hot coals.

He peered into the gloom of the three-story house, calling out, "Mom, Dad?" Receiving no response, he took a step further into the place that he once called home, but knew that it would never be the same home he once had, and repeated his call. This time, it came out as more of a plea than an actual question of their presence. "Are you guys there? Hello?" Another blast, this time closer, echoed upon the frightened boy. He vanished from the soft light of the outside world, into the unfamiliar darkness of the one inside. Rubble was strewn everywhere, over chairs, tables, and priceless artwork that his mother had once been so proud of. A dark heap lay curled up in the corner, barely visible in the lack of light. Charlie crossed the room, over to it and looked down in slight shock at what it was. The body of a grunt was sprawled out, the cause of death apparent. Judging by the scorched skin and singed hairs, he had died from some type of fire attack, probably from his father's Arcanine. _Wait, _Charlie thought, _if his parents were able to defend themselves from this grunt, what's to say they couldn't take on even more and still be alive. _The thought of his parents surviving this tragedy brought joy to this boy who had suffered so much already.

Leading his Medicham down the arched stairway that had once been a beautiful embellishment to his home, Charlie stopped when he saw another lump on the bottom step._ Oh no, could that be his mother or father? _ Afraid to find out what it actually was, Charlie descended those last few steps to see that it was a black-skinned man, looking nothing like either of his parents, but seemed to have died in the same fashion as the last grunt. In a sick way, Charlie was kind of glad that his father had killed another grunt, _less of them around now right?_ What was he thinking? _Could the sight of so_ _many dead bodies have turned him into some kind of sick individual who_ _actually adored death?_ No, he had to keep his head on straight; he's still the same Charlie Weindrich that he had been earlier today. He still grimaced at the sight of a corpse. No amount of destruction or death could change how he felt about it all.

With all of these thoughts swirling around in his head, there was no room to think about the whispering he had just heard or the creak of a door, that is, until he heard a deep shout.

"Huh?" he grunted, trying to recollect his thoughts.

"I said, if you come any closer you will be obliterated!" The shout came again, this time a lot clearer. The source of the voice seemed to be coming from the ajar door at the bottom of the staircase.

Charlie heard another shriek, this time a woman, "Oh no, not another one, I can't bear to watch this again!" He knew that voice, it had sung to him every night in his childhood, had comforted him when he was sad, sick, or nervous. He could never forget such a voice, or even more, the person.

"Mom?" Charlie called out, a lump forming in his throat.

"Son?" this time it was his father's voice, as he peered around the edge of the doorframe. His usually neat, tidy hair had fallen wild around his face, which was covered in spots of soot, though there was no mistaking that that was his father. He lunged forward, grasped onto Charlie and held him in a tight, warm embrace. "Oh son, we thought you were gone, we thought that we had lost you," he continued. Archie, his handsome Arcanine bolted from behind the barricaded door, and leapt upon Charlie's Medicham, slobbering all over his face, and playfully tossing him about. As he stood watching this heart-warming scene, Charlie almost forgot the war taking place just outside the house. Gripping his son's aching shoulder, Mr. Weindrich led his son into the safety of the barricaded cellar.

"Charlie? My baby!" A shrill, cracked voice came rocketing through the darkness at the boy, followed by a body colliding with his. It wrapped its shivering arms around him and pulled him in for a hug. Charlie could barely make out his mother's shape through the musty gloom of the long-uncleaned cellar. He heard a sharp click, and the room sprang to sight, due to the fact that his father had just flipped the light switch. The boy was surprised to see that they were not alone within this cramped room. About twelve others were also occupying the space. Some he recognized instantly as close business partners of his father, and others were unfamiliar.

"We have been waiting for hours, we were unsure if you were going to make it," a stubby man, clothed in a sleek, navy suit said, getting to his feet. This man Charlie knew as his father's fellow ambassador, controlling the northern Hoenn regions. " We can't waste any more time, now that the kid is here, we've got to go!" he continued abruptly, this time focused on Mr. Weindrich. Following these words, he whipped a cell phone from his shirt pocket, dialed a series of numbers, and finally pressed it to his ear. He mumbled a few undistinguishable words and then hung up. "We have an armored vehicle arriving shortly, it will then transport us to the bunker," he informed the entire room.

Minutes later, they all were up and out the door, squeezing into the small armored van. Charlie, who was squashed between his parents, noticed the worried expressions on both of their faces. Now, seeing his mother without her packed-on makeup, she looked somewhat older, and worry lines were creased beneath her eyes. These only seemed to deepen as she witness what had been done to her city. As they sped on, passing the burning homes and torched buildings that had once made up Rustboro, each person within the safety of the van couldn't help but feel sorrow. Occasionally, a member of the Depraved would see their vehicle and shout a command at their pokemon to attack, but each time it would be said in vain, for the steel alloy was impermeable.

In order to reach the bunker, which Charlie guessed was on the outskirts of town, they would have to pass through the East Side of the city, which was currently occupied by the Depraved. Due to the fact that Charlie was imagining what would happen when they reached that point, he did not see the contest hall until they were whizzing past it. What he saw then stunned him. The entire castle-like building was in flames, soot sailing in torrents around it. Screams could be heard through its thick walls, as each of the people within were burning to crisps. Amid the pity he felt for them, one thought stuck out like a sore thumb. He had actually wanted to get into that building. Seeing as he was not able to, he thanked God that it had already been full. As they passed, Charlie crouched down in what little space he had. The boy did not want to see any more destruction, death, or burning buildings, he just wanted to be safe. Slowly but surely, Charlie's eyelids began to feel heavy and finally they closed, and he drifted off to sleep.

The boy awoke almost an hour later to find himself alone in the van. Sitting up, he gazed effortlessly through the dusty window beside him. A black void met his gaze, confirming his thoughts that night had fallen. He crawled to the front seat and pressed his face against the windshield. He could just make out the dim shape of a tiny cottage a few feet away from the hood of the van. Charlie clutched the door handle and yanked it upward, releasing the door to swing out into the night air. He then jumped to the ground and slammed it back into place. Feeling his way through the darkness, his hands quickly met the abrasive exterior of the cottage and he felt further for a door. Seconds later, he found one and pushed it inward to reveal the dank one-room interior of this small home. Neither his parents, nor the others were here, but he then noticed a small overturned table covering a bearskin rug. Charlie crossed the room and pulled it back onto its legs, and suddenly got a thought to lift the rug as well. Almost as though he knew it was there, a trapdoor lay in place, ready for him to open. Without thinking, the boy lifted it and looked down into the open space beneath him. He wasn't shocked to see that they were all here, sitting about chatting, yet not laughing. This was obviously the bunker that had been talking about. The multi-rung ladder below him served as an entryway down to them, where they explained that they were in no immediate danger so they had just let him sleep. After explaining that to their son, the ambassador and his wife turned back to the conversation they were in with another, older couple. _They had not been in the van before, _Charlie thought. In fact there were a lot less people in at his house when he had arrived. Now there were at least twenty, if not thirty people eating, sleeping, and talking down in this spacious bunker.

Yet what Charlie Weindrich didn't know was that these strangers would serve as his family for the next two years, underground, with no contact to the outside world. This would be due to the fact that the war on the surface world would in fact escalate to a full-blown human and pokemon extinction. With the bunkers impenetrable walls and titanium flooring, it would keep them alive, to one day return to the surface and repopulate the Earth to what it had once been! This would forever be known as Project: Repopulation!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 1: An Unknown Earth**

**7:43 p.m. Friday, May 13****th****, 2049**

The long-forgotten wind blew over the rubble, distorting the rays of sunlight struggling to reach the earth. It had done this every day of the Earth's existence, providing light for the many organisms that had once made their homes here. But now, it seemed useless, for there was nothing that depended upon its warm glow for life. The breeze whistled with the laughter and cries of children long gone, done away with in the Apocalypse of 2047. In that day of reckoning, no soul was left to live atop the Earth's surface, neither human nor pokemon. The Depraved had succeeded in their task of diminishing the human race, but had done what they had wanted to stop: killed off every species of pokemon. Something had malfunctioned within the chambers of the molecular bomb, causing mass extinction. This had occurred only days after the destruction of the once-loved Hoenn region, yet all memory of that day, the smells and sights had died away; the wind had made sure of that.

A soft tapping could be heard among the mourning echoes of the Earth's ruins, ringing out into the silence. It was faint, yet strong, for the only other sound was the strong, rippling breeze among the weeds struggling for sunlight. It was the unmistakable clang of metal on metal, though there was no apparent cause. This monotony was broken only by the crumble of something emerging from the soil; a sapling it appeared; no a hand! Its curled fingers were dyed an ashen white, and were clenched around a rusted wrench. It continued to rise upward to reveal the tattered sleeve of an overcoat, until it reached the shoulder, where it stopped and hung lifelessly above the ground. With a mighty surge, a head emerged from the dirt, struggling wildly for breath and to avert its eyes from the blinding sunlight. It was a male, seemingly middle age, though you couldn't really tell, judging by the pale complexion of one who had not seen sunlight in over two years. His pupils were dilated to the point where they covered the pigment and were reaching into the whites. He pulled himself upward and stood, knees shaking, a hand covering his eyes. Minutes later, he released his hand, letting it fall to his side, and stared around at the destruction that had resulted from the war. It was at that moment that he howled in an animal-like way, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Charlie Weindrich, one of the few survivors of the Apocalypse awoke to a strange sensation on the back of his neck. It was familiar, like a long lost friend that had vanished long ago. It was warm to the touch; a feeling that Charlie had long lived without. He shuffled around in the cot, turning in the direction of the warmth and gasped in pain, grabbing at his eyes. He yelled suddenly, surprised by the sudden blinding light protruding from the ceiling of the bunker. "What?" he moaned, confused at the thought of someone actually reaching the surface. The boy, who had since become a young man pulled himself to his feet, reaching to pull down the entirely-too-small pants which he had long outgrown, and were riding up to his shins. He crossed the cramped quarters, the entire time holding his face to shield the light, and took hold of the old wooden ladder propped against the wall. It led straight to the crumbling hole in the ceiling, from which a deep orange light was pouring. His hands shaking violently, he climbed the ladder one rung at a time, taking his sweet time, for he was scared what he would find at the top. His hands met the abrasive touch of rock and dirt, which crumbled beneath his touch. Before pulling himself through the hole, he took one last look around at his home of two years. The twenty-six people who had since become his family snoozed off in a world of happiness and joy, one that they had lost when the war began.

With that image placed firmly in his mind, Charlie crawled through the hole, now having his hands smashed against his face from the intense sunlight on the surface. Instantly, the aroma of windswept grass filled his nostrils, causing memories of his childhood to wipe away all other thoughts. He weakly felt his way around the hill, though he need not, for there was nothing in his way; though he actually wished that there had been. Charlie peeked through his clenched fingers, he could only bear to look for a moment, without the burn of sunlight causing him to shield his eyes once more. In those few seconds, he saw nothing but a field of newly sprouted grass, framed by the rubble and ruin of his past home: Rustboro City. The field consisted of many windblown hills, and was beautiful in a way that Charlie could not describe. He also saw his father, slouched atop the largest hill, his face buried in his hands. Accompanying him was his faithful Arcanine, who had begun to look increasingly weaker as time passed by, and now looked about as strong as a caterpie. Charlie blindly crossed the distance between them, and stumbled to sit next to his father. He was shocked to see tears framing his father's face, something Charlie had never seen before.

"Don't worry, your eyes will adjust," he sniffled, batting the tears away from his face. "It's gone, it's all gone," he continued, this time consumed in his own thoughts. In this new light, Charlie recognized how old and frail his father had become; far from the muscular authority he had once been in Charlie's eyes.

"Dad, it's okay," he whispered, trying to comfort his father. By now, his eyes could focus upon his surroundings and he realized why his father was crying. The world they once knew was gone. The people, the places, everything was wiped away by those damn Depraved. Charlie screamed and began beating the ground, tears forming in his eyes. This act of rage only ceased when Charlie felt his father's cool palm stroke the back of his neck, as he would always do when Charlie would get angry. He looked up at his father's face, trying to focus through the blur of the tears, but only saw the distorted outline of his father's graying head.

"Let your pokemon out," he said, "I'm sure they could use the exercise." Following his father's direction, he reached to his belt (which was on the last hole) and grasped onto the three pokeballs that were latched on. They landed within feet of each other and exploded in a familiar blast of red light. From those tiny balls emerged the friendly faces of his Medicham, Munchlax, and Mudkip. Another burst of tears blurred his vision even further as the memory of his Zigzagoon came to mind. He had lost it the day the Depraved had entered Rustboro, bent on killing everything and they succeeded. The three remaining pokemon dove and sprinted across the field, obviously elated that they were on the surface world again. Yet, Charlie wasn't sure how he felt about it yet. He didn't know if he could face the past, which had been tearing at him for those sorrowful two years. He was so preoccupied with these selfish thoughts that he barely heard the gasp of the others that had obviously just climbed out of the hole and were experiencing their first taste of sunlight.

Almost an hour later, after the group of twenty-six, ranging in age from three to sixty-eight, had grown accustomed to the brightening sunlight, they all sat reminiscing about the past and making plans for the future. This was not what they had expected after all. When they were trapped in the impenetrable bunker for those 730 days, they had all imagined that they would one day return to the world they had left behind, and would reunite with old friends and return to their homes. But now, they all realized that those thoughts had been for nothing, because there was not a force on this post-Apocalyptic Earth that was going to return their lives to what they had once been.

"According to my scanner," Mr. Durham, the head of Hoenn's scientific research lab, interrupted. " The Johto region lay untouched, as if nothing had ever taken place there; besides the massive extinction of human and pokemon kind. The city is in good shape, for those damned Depraved, may they rot in hell, had become too anxious to finish off that region, and had blasted that damn bomb off after destroying the third region, Hoenn. If my beliefs are correct, which I hope to god that they are, the Johto Research Lab may be of use, and there's no telling what wonders we can make out of that!" the professor exclaimed to a depressed crowd.

"Well I don't see why not," Ambassador Weindrich responded, his head still placed firmly within his hands. "We don't have anywhere else to go, our homes and lives are wiped clean; we might as well start over on a clean slate."

"Then we must commence as quickly as possible!" Professor Durham shouted, jumping to his feet and scrambled back into the gloom of the bunker to collect his things. He had always been a weird one, Charlie thought, though he had no room to criticize any one of them, for they were his family now.

Within the next few hours, the group had left their positions on the hill, and had gone to gather their things, thanks to the constant screech of the professor to hurry up. With their few, meager belongings dangling from straps over their shoulder, and pokeballs place firmly against their belts, that group of twenty-six lucky souls set off to Johto, unsure of what they would find, and even more unsure about how they would feel afterward. Johto was the one place left that gave any meaning to their lives and kept them from just perishing from the Earth like all the rest. With hope and luck in front of them, those people, who had been strangers only two simple years ago set off on their journey to save the futures of both humans and pokemon alike!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 2: Water Games**

**10:43 p.m.** **Friday May 13****th****, 2049**

A single flickering flame was cast out before the group, penetrating the surrounding darkness and exposing what couldn't be seen before. The spark was emitted by the glistening Magnemite that silently floated at Professor Durham's side. The blackness of the forest around them was suffocating, seemingly taking your breath from your throat and whisking away into the hellish depths among the trees. This was not the kind of darkness that they remembered. The darkness they recalled from the days of Rustboro City was accompanied by some sort of blinking traffic lights or honking of traffic backed up by said lights. Utter silence greeted them with every step, giving them the feeling that they were living some sort of silent film displayed on a large screen somewhere in the center of Rustboro. These forests were once flocked with Hoot-hoot, which would have given them at least some sense of security that they were not alone here.

The frizzed head of Professor Durham cast a long shadow over the group, allowing them to only see him and not each other. Not as though they would like to see each other. They preferred the coolness of the dark, for looking at one another's sunburned, blistered bodies would only bring more pain to their own. They were grateful when the sun had sunk over the tops of the trees, which shielded them from its deadly rays. Being away from it for so long, these people had forgotten the pain it could cause upon pasty white skin such as their own. Rubbing their arms incessantly, the group of twenty-six marched onward in the direction that the Professor indicated.

Since their return to the surface, Professor Durham became the self-appointed leader of the pack, telling them that he was best suited for the job due to his "experience". Charlie Weindrich was just glad that somebody was taking charge. The situation would have been a lot worse if each person had been too frightened to come forth and lead the group to safety. Charlie's thoughts on the matter were interrupted however, for the Professor turned to speak to the followers.

"I think we should stop here for the night, set up camp, maybe find something to eat," Professor Durham said, with a tone of authority leaking into the words. A few murmurs could be heard within the crowd until a bellow erupted from the center. "Are you crazy? We don't even know where we are, I say we get in as much walking now before we have to brave the daylight again!" A chubby man was saying, making his way through the crowd toward the front. His head reached to Charlie's nose, indicating that he was very short, but by the tone of his voice and look on his pig-face, he seemed to think that he was ten feet tall and large enough to boss the others around. By his side, matching his every stride was a large Gastrodon. Earlier that day, under the scorch of the sun, the man's shellos had fallen on its face, unable to continue in the heat. A large blue sphere had erupted around it, Charlie recalled, and the shellos had then evolved into the somewhat-repulsive form of Gastrodon, which the man had been so proud of. In a way, the two resembled each other greatly; both were oozing out of their shells, actually in the man's case, it was his clothes.

"Look, Mr. Kramer, the others are exhausted, we all are for that matter, and I just think it would be good to rest before we venture further," the Professor responded, coming forth with his Magnemite following. These words were met in another series of murmurs, this time agreeing with Professor Durham. The blobbish form of Mr. Kramer fell back, absorbed by the crowd.

"Alright, let's set up camp, I want you five to search the forest for food, berries, nuts, anything, just don't go in too far or you will never find your way back." Professor Durham ordered, pointing to the group of five at the front. "You ten go collect firewood, anything that can be used for kindling, preferably small twigs, get enough to last the night," he continued, swinging around to point in Charlie's direction. "I need you two to go get some water from the stream down that way," he said, getting down on one knee to be eye-level with two kids who looked around the age of six. Beside them stood a short, blonde-headed beauty, to whom they began yanking in the direction of the stream. "And finally, the remaining folks with set up a place to sleep and prepare the food that we have left from the bunker!" He said in one finally burst of his voice, leaning to catch his breath from that mouthful of words.

"C'mon out Mudkip," Charlie whispered as he stepped deeper into the forest away from the comforting light of the Magnemite. He then tossed a pokeball into the vast darkness that lay before him and a shower of red light rained down from it until the small Mudkip appeared, yawning as though it had just been awakened from a nap. "Okay, Mudkip, we need to gather firewood, so you gotta help me, okay?" he asked, although he already knew that the pokemon would help him regardless of the situation. The young man could barely see the mudfish pokemon, so he got the feeling that he was speaking to the pure darkness around him. This all ended however as a warm glow surrounded him and Mudkip, lighting the surrounding trees as well. A short girl, looking to be about fifteen, (like Charlie) approached, her long blonde locks shimmering in the light emitted by the small sphere atop her companion Spoink's head. The pink orb that lay between the little pig's head glowed as bright as the Professor's Magnemite, allowing her to easily maneuver through the tangle of the forest's vines and underbrush. "Hey Charlie, umm how's it going?" she asked as the two approached, unscathed by the twigs and branches jutting out, as to hinder them.

"Tiffany, I'm so glad to see you, I haven't had a chance to talk to you since-," he cut off, gazing upon her beauty marked by severe sunburn. Her soft, freckled skin shouldn't have been scrutinized by the sun, it wasn't fair to Charlie, who had spent most days in the bunker admiring her from afar. Actually, they had grown close as friends, seeing as they were the only two of their age, and had bonded over those last two years, spending most of their time together. "Ooh, you got hit pretty bad didn't you?" he asked, lifting her chin upward with his fingers, as to get a better view of her scorched neck. She brushed his hair back, and commented on his own case of burnt skin. Her soft touch sent a shiver down Charlie's spine, as it always did.

"I thought you were supposed to be with those kids getting water," Charlie said, suddenly remembering the task at hand.

"Yeah, but I had to sneak over and see my best friend!" She squealed joyously, leaping onto the young man and squeezing him in a tight embrace. "While I am here, I might as well help ya out," she said over her shoulder as she apprehended her Spoink from munching on a fistful of leaves. She held it close to her chest and uttered the words, "Use psybeam on that branch!" A beam of purple light shot from the sphere between its ears, temporarily blocking out the light it was previously emitting. Through the darkness, Charlie heard a rattling crash, indicating that the Spoink had succeeded in knocking down the tree's limb.

"Okay Mudkip, your turn, use mudslap!" the boy shouted to his pokemon, which instantly rose into the air and collided with the nearest branch, while emitting a shower of rock-hard mud upon it. Like the previous one, this limb also fell to the ground, but in a more silent fashion.

"That should be enough," Charlie thought out loud as he gazed around at the limb-scattered ground. "Okay, Medicham, come on out!" he continued, throwing yet another pokeball into the air. Like the other, a flash of red light transformed into the large form of Medicham. "Use focus punch on the limbs and chop them into logs!" On command, it dove toward the fallen branches with amazing speed and began throwing a series of fists at them. Within minutes, they were carved into perfect cylinders, easy to carry. "Okay, now use psychic and carry them to camp, which is, umm, that way I think," he then pointed in some random direction. The Medicham focused its eyes on the logs and they rose into the air, a purple haze surrounded them.

"No actually, it's that way." Tiffany corrected him, thrusting her finger the opposite way.

Charlie, embarrassed, corrected his pokemon, which then started off in the direction it had been commanded, its eyes never left the cracked surfaces of the logs. They were in the process of fighting their way back through the bramble when they heard a bloodcurdling scream echo from behind them. The Medicham instantly dropped the logs with a clatter, obviously perturbed by the noise. Charlie glanced in that direction then within notice sped off toward the scream, which came again, this time louder. His pokemon ran at his heels, ready to aid him if anything should go wrong. He looked back to see that Tiffany was only a few strides behind him, her Spoink squirming and wriggling within her grasp. Seeing as the light from the Spoink was behind him, Charlie stumbled, trying to catch his balance, but knew that he would soon trip again. The cry came again and again, answered by the call of others from the camp who were obviously racing toward it as well. Through the gloom of the trees, Charlie could just make out the silhouette of a man running full speed toward the river which lay just beyond a series of hills which appeared in a clearing up ahead. By now, Charlie and Tiffany were cavorting their way through the clearing, dancing to the side to avoid a clump of trees in the center. The two had just breasted the largest hill when the steep side of the ravine came into view, just below which was the raging river. It curved round the rugged bend and then disappeared from view into the darkness beyond. As they reached the sheer drop-off edge of the ravine, they joined a group of about five adults that had just arrived and were currently gaping in horror at what they saw in the river.

"Oh my god!" came the shrill shriek of a long-legged lady kneeling beside them, trying to reach down into the river, which lay at least twelve feet below.

Charlie leaned over the side and squinted down into the black waters. He was shocked to see a child clutching a rock, which was protruding through the water, trying to avoid being dragged away into the depths of the river. In between

In between sobs he would sputter an undistinguishable cry to the forming crowd above him.

"Oh my gosh, this is all my fault!" Tiffany whined, turning to Charlie with tears forming in her eyes. "I left them here alone to come see you!" Those tears had now spilled over her eyelids and began to leak down her face at an alarming rate. "I've got to help him!" Tiffany continued, kicking off her tattered sneakers and taking another look down at the water.

"Come on, don't be crazy, you can't go in there, you'll be killed! Please, just let them handle it!" Charlie pleaded with her. He would be crushed if he lost her. Those last few words were unheard however, for she had just took a running start off the edge of the ravine. Charlie watched as she disappeared into the darkness.

Her body struck the water hard, knocking the breath out of her. The chill of the water momentarily paralyzed her limbs, but she soon regained control of her body and kicked toward the screaming child. The river churned and spit foam into her face, seemingly attempting to stop her from reaching him. At the moment, it was winning. Despite how hard she slammed her fists against the water in an attempt to stay toward the surface, the current was too strong and Tiffany was dragged into the chilled depths.

"TIFFANY!" the scream erupted from Charlie's throat as he watched in helpless horror at his best friend being dragged below by the undertow. All was silent after this outburst, excluding the continuous wail of the shaken child and the slosh of the river against the sheer edge of the ravine. A small trickle of tears sprang from Charlie's eyes, which seemed diminutive next to this immense body of water. Though his vision was blurred, Charlie witnessed an eruption of red light through the foamy black waters, which could only mean one thing.

A thick tusk protruded through the surface, which was followed by the body of a sleek Walrein. As it rose out of the water, the unmistakable shape of a shivering girl clutched its neck, sputtering for air and to wipe the tangled mess of hair from her eyes. The walrus pokemon rocketed easily against the current toward the equally shivering boy still screaming his head off on the rock. When they had drawn near enough, Tiffany latched her hands around the child and pulled him onto the safety of the Walrein's back.

"Now Walrein, use surf!" Tiffany cried, her lips a deep purple shade, which looked impressive next to her bright red cheeks. A colossal wave burst from beneath them, sending the trio scrambling madly through the air before smashing with a thud against the craggy, rock-strewn ground.

Instantly, a thundering applause broke out among the crowd, which now housed the entire group of twenty-six. A couple cheers were audible and every eye was on the hero: Tiffany. Drenched in both water and tears, she pushed herself up from the ground and grabbed Charlie in a familiar hug. Even now, with Tiffany soaked in bone-chilling water, Charlie still felt the warm prickle of her touch down his well-worn spine.

A brawny man separated from the cheering bunch and made his way over to the two who were still hugging.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he screamed at her, rage pouring into every word. "You could have been killed, you are so stupid sometimes!" the man's face had grown to resembled a large, blood red tomato.

"But Daddy-," Tiffany coughed, detaching herself from Charlie. "Daddy, I had to!" She followed her father off into the woods, the sounds of their fight echoing after them. The remaining twenty-four stood in shocked silence, scuffing their feet on the ground, or chewing their fingernails to the nub. Nobody knew what to do or say after that incident.

"Well, shall we get back to camp?" Professor Durham asked, taking charge as usual. But unlike before, he was not answered by a few murmurs, for everyone just slunk off after him, too tired and embarrassed to respond.

Charlie however, just stood in utter silence, and watched them all leave. There he stood for hours, just staring at the gurgling river, wondering how anybody could have so much hatred for someone who did something that everybody else was too afraid to do. He just didn't understand.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 3: The Departing Three**

**6:45 a.m. Saturday, May 14****th****, 2049**

_The stench of rotting flesh had just wafted through Charlie's nostrils and was working its way toward his brain. It seemed to overpower the boy, and due to this, his motions were becoming sluggish and his vision blurred. The fiery silhouette of the contest hall was scarred beyond recognition by the cage of eyelashes falling over his pupils. Charlie fell to his knees, struggling to keep his body from interacting with the charred remains of the victims that lay at his feet. Many were noticeably human, for their body structure had not crumbled beneath the flames just yet. But others were just piles of ashen bones, scourged in fire beyond identity. Unable to withstand the urge to just let his body fall among the others, Charlie dropped like a sack, overturning a body in the process. The boy stared at it in pure shock, though not able to utter a word. He stared into a mirror, or so it seemed, for the body he now lie next to wore his face, his clothes, and his identity. The Charlie clone stared into space, its eyes floated back into its head, showing only the vein-scattered whites. The mouth, which was curled into a frightening smile, was dusted with ash. Suddenly it twitched. That twitch would have not been perceived by anyone who had not been focusing upon the face as Charlie had. But there it was; a slow, silent twitch of the lip muscles. That anomaly was followed by the mouth closing into a tight O shape. A burst of laughter issued forth, into Charlie's face, scattering dust and wafting at the flames occupying a nearby body. It cackled and screamed in a frightening way, as though it enjoyed the destruction around it. The boy heard a clatter of footsteps behind him, though he couldn't turn to look in that direction. It turns out; he didn't have to, for the Depraved were already upon him, their pokemon standing at the ready. __**Go ahead and kill me! **__Charlie thought. __**Anything is better than living in a world alone, losing contact with everything he had once known, as though it had all been a distant dream. **__He watched in strange happiness as the clawed hand of a Kingler came down hard upon him._

The slow, deep breaths of sleep cut off from the newly awakened boy as his eyes flashed open. _Was that a dream? _He thought. Charlie Weindrich gazed around in confusion, expecting to see the Depraved standing over him, or at least the mass grave to which he had fallen into. Where was that world that he had just been a part of? In a strange way, he actually wanted to lie among the bodies, just to be a part of his past and in some way connect with those he had lost. The imaginary smell of carnage still lingered within his nostrils, as though that event had just recently taken place.

He turned on his side, attempting to recover a comfortable position in which he could return to sleep. But upon doing so, something caught his eye; a white shape flashed a few feet away. It was subtle, but the young man still managed to see it. He sat up and stared into total darkness, waiting for the thing to reveal itself, but it came in the form of complete blackness. Seeing no reason to stay up and wait for something that probably wouldn't show again, Charlie returned to the sleep from which he had just awakened, thankfully experiencing no further nightmares.

The group of twenty-six gathered their things quickly, for the sun had already peeked over the tops of the pines. They were supposed to have been out of this area before the sun had even risen, but having nothing to wake them but the sun itself, they had fallen completely behind schedule and now had to suffer in the baking temperature. Their sunburn from the previous day had now blistered over and the congregation of people ached even worse and was terribly irritable toward each other and their pokemon. They wasted the entire morning in a mad rush to collect their belongings and in the meantime, squabbled with each other over petty things. Some croaked over their yearning for a comfortable bed, faced with only the ground to sleep on. Others whined and groaned about their severe cases of sunburn, as if they were the only ones who were experiencing pain.

Charlie lifted his backpack onto the corner of his shoulder, wincing at the burn he felt as it came into contact with his reddened neck. He felt a series of cracks within his back as the bag settled slowly and comfortably into position. Gazing around, he noticed that he was of a select group that had actually finished all of their packing and suppressed a laugh when he witnessed the others running around in panic. His mother and father were quietly chatting behind him and didn't seem to notice their son slip off into the small crowd. He maneuvered his way through the various people until he came upon the small section that Tiffany's family occupied, hidden beneath the shade of a low-hanging branch. There sat Tiffany, gazing glumly down at her feet, seemingly uncaring that she was supposed to be packing. Charlie knew that she was still upset about the fight last night with her father, but he wasn't going to mention it to her.

"So, ya already packed up?" he asked as he walked up, though it was clearly obvious that she had not. She simply replied with a shake of her head, tossing her hair as she did so. "Well, we better get your stuff all together, before everyone leaves without you," Charlie told her, grasping her soft palm and pulling her to her feet. "I think it would be a lot quicker if we did this," he continued, digging deep into his pocket. His hand met the smooth surface of a pokeball and he tossed it lightly in front of him. The red and white ball spun uncontrollably before landing with a thud next to Tiffany and erupting in a blinding red light. The girl was bathed in the bright color and before her an unusually small Munchlax came into substance. "Okay girl," Charlie said leaning down to come face to face with it. "Collect her things and help her pack!"

In a matter of minutes, the Munchlax had gathered all of Tiffany's things into a large pile and tossed them uncaringly into her bag, using her body to compress the items so that they would fit. Glancing up into the soft glow pouring through the treetops, Charlie saw that the others were near finished with their packing and had begun to assemble in a line to the north. Impatient people cried out to their loved ones in an attempt to hurry them up so that they could get moving.

"Charlie, Charlie, where are you?" came his mother's call, slightly diminished in volume, due to the fact that she was standing at the opposite end of the campsite. The large brim of a sun-hat hung low over her eyes, causing her to stumble among the various roots and stumps that sprang up through the earth. Its former bright pink color had been faded deeply, as had its owner, whose face had slightly sank in, giving her the look of skeletal beauty. The dark, auburn hair that was usually styled in a curved fashion around her chin now reached down to her forearms, and the roots had returned to their original dark black color all due to the time within the bunker. "Oh, there you are honey," she breathed, pushing herself to her feet and wiping a trace of dirt from her cheek as she saw Charlie emerging from the sparse crowd of people who were still packing. An escaped Rattata scrambled between the two, followed closely by its owner who was muttering beneath his breath, continuing to shoot small bursts of light from a golden pokeball, in an attempt to make his pokemon return to its depths.

"Where's Dad?" Charlie asked, looking toward the blank space where his father had just recently been. Not waiting for a response, he surveyed his surroundings, instantly recognizing the semi-muscular bulk of his father towering above the others in line readying themselves to leave. He took off in a sprint, reaching behind his back to beckon his mother to follow. Seconds later, he had reached the group, of which his father was near the front combing a crumbled map with his eyes.

"If Route 227 hasn't caved in, I believe our chances would be best going that way; after all, there is no longer that savage group of Sudowoodo blocking the path." Mr. Weindrich muttered to Professor Durham, who responded with a series of head-nods. Seeing his son approaching, the Ambassador stowed the map in a side pocket of his faded leather bag and turned back to the Professor, as though waiting for him to make an announcement. His suspicions were confirmed as Professor Durham swiveled on his heels and faced the murmuring group who instantly became silent, waiting for instruction.

"It seems as though we have found an alternative route," he began. "If my calculations serve to be correct, we should reach Johto in about week; that is, if we make as little stops as possible." He stopped and turned back to Charlie's father, whispered a few unheard words, and looked back out at the now-full herd of survivors. "As an extra-precautionary, we have decided to send a few scouts forward ahead of the rest of us; they shall, if all goes according to plan, arrive in the Johto region a few days ahead of us, for they will be traveling by back of their pokemon." This announcement was answered by a small outbreak of surprise, though most of the crowd seemed to accept this as being the best for them all. Three people suddenly flanked the Professor and smiled down at their fellow people. Obviously these were the ones chosen as scouts, and Charlie was utterly shocked to see that the man standing to the right of the Professor was his father! Mr. Weindrich had never mentioned anything about scouting out the area, in fact, as far as Charlie could remember, in the past few days, he had rarely even spoken to his son or wife. Suddenly, the boy realized that his father had been speaking quietly with his mother that morning, and he remembered the blank look upon his mother's face as he turned away to help Tiffany. Charlie was suddenly outraged. How could his father undergo such a dangerous act and not even tell him about it? He turned his gaze back to the four men standing atop the small hill above the others and his eyes met his father's. Charlie gaze his father a look of pure hatred, something that he had never done before, and then turned away, leaving his father in a state of understanding for his son's anger.

The three scouts, Mr. Homandre, Ms. Gondoria, and Mr. Weindrich looked solemn, which could be expected for one about to leave the safety of the group. Their loyal pokemon sat or stood attentively at the scouts' sides, seemingly unnoticing of the eruption of applause around them. The three scouts then blended in with the crowd as they slid down the rocky hill in an attempt to say goodbye to their families. Mr. Weindrich focused on his son, obviously wanting to apologize for his ignorance to Charlie's feelings. He worked his way through the crowd to the point where he had just seconds earlier seen his son, yet he noticed as he reached it that Charlie had vanished. Mr. Weindrich, unused to being rejected as such took this to be a usual act of teenage behavior, though for some reason there was a small force of doubt tugging at his insides. The man returned to the hillside where he took the remainder of the time to watch his fellow scouts saying goodbye to their families. Within minutes, Mr. Homandre worked his way back to Mr. Weindrich's side, finally succeeding in distinguishing his eight children's crying at the fact that their father was leaving. Charlie's father watched this scene in envy at the fact this is one and only son gave no indication of sadness at the announcement as the others had.

With the crowd finally having accepted this news, they settled down and watched as the three scouts quietly muttered a few final words to the Professor. As though it had been practiced, Mr. Homandre rose first onto the back of his Donphan, straddling the elephant-like pokemon as it let out a burst of hot breath. Its curved tusks protruded like giant fangs ready to snap even the thickest of trees. Rotating around, the Mexican man gave a final salute to the remaining people and then dug his heels into the pokemon's sides, instantly causing it to rocket off in the opposite direction. Charlie watched until the dark shape disappeared from view, then looked up at the next departing scout. The only female scout, Ms. Gondoria stood at attention next to the large form of a Skarmory, whose sleek metal coverings reflected the beauty of its owner. The lady's hair fell in neatly kept curls around her face, framing the lightly freckled skin. In one swift move, she kicked her long leg over the back of the Skarmory and pulled herself into position before looking down at the admiration cast from the others. With a half smile, she wrapped her arms around the glistening, metallic neck of the pokemon and uttered a word into its ear. The bird rose high above the group, stopping just above the treetops, and sped effortlessly through the sky, in the same direction that her predecessor had ventured. That left only Mr. Weindrich, standing awkwardly alone before them. Charlie, though it pained him, had to watch his father leave, it might, after all, be the last time he would ever see him. Expecting his father to ride atop his companion Arcanine, it came as a shock to see his father pull a pokeball from his waist and toss it into the air, making sure to aim for a clearing where nobody stood. That act of precaution was due to the fact that from the pokeball appeared, bathed in a red light, the behemoth form of an Onix. The rock snake let out an ear-shattering howl before leaning down to allow Ambassador Weindrich to clamber atop its back. Taking one last glance in Charlie's direction, the man sped off on the goliath pokemon, which curled and snaked itself around the bases of trees and in the process uprooted small plants, leaving a small path of destruction in its wake. For a while, the entirety of the remaining twenty-three stood staring off in the direction that the scouts had left, as though wishing they would come back. Charlie was thankful when the Professor took his usual role as leader and began ushering the group out of the area where they had spent their first night on this strange, new Earth.


End file.
